


Love in The Bloom Room

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Love in The Bloom Room

Spencer really didn’t understand the social convention of giving flowers; they were going to die within a week or so anyway. Wouldn’t it be more fitting to give the one you loved, whether it be a partner or a friend or a parent, something that would last longer? Maybe even a lifetime?

In Spencer’s mind, a teddy bear or a candle or a book would be a better gift. Especially a book – a book was built to last. But over the years he’d started to look past the social convention and toward the feelings that social convention brought. Whenever he brought his mother flowers, she’d stick her face in the bouquet, breathe in the heady scent and regal him with some kind of story that the scent brought back into her flailing memory. Scent seemed to ground her, and although Spencer knew it wasn’t true, it seemed to keep her lucid for a little longer.

With work as busy and unpredictable as it was, it was difficult to bring his mother flowers all the time, but whenever he had the chance, he did. He always went to the same store too.

It was a place called The Bloom Room. The young woman that owned the place had made quite a name for herself, developing a booming business out of her love of temporary beauty. Honestly, Spencer was surprised that the shop and been as successful as it was, with online services and nearly every supermarket designating a special area for flowers, it was a wonder that her business had taken off. However, when Spencer stepped foot into the store, he understood why. 

The second one walked into The Bloom Room, they were greeted by her angelic voice and inviting nature. Unlike so many places, she never breathed down your neck, she just extended her services and went around tending to her flowers as usual. That was the other thing – the flowers. Due to her love of everything with petals, she’d dedicated her life to networking with people who could get her the best possible products at a good price. The flowers here were admittedly a bit more expensive than the ones picked up at the supermarket or online, but the beauty and vibrancy of the flowers far exceeded what one might pay for them. Ever since the first time he stepped inside, he promised himself he wouldn’t go anywhere else as long as the store stood.

When he thought about it though, that could’ve been due to the store’s owner, Y/F/N Y/L/N. He’d found over the past few weeks he’d been frequenting her store that her voice calmed him after a rough case. It was slightly roughened, but soft. Her smile shone brightly, making an even better impression than the array of flowers she floated among. Her hair perfectly framed her face, falling delicately in front of her eyes. If he was honest with himself, she’d captured his attention. From what he gathered of her through their few brief conversations, she was exactly the type of woman he’d imagined himself falling for – and he was falling. “Hello, Spencer,” she said, giving him a wave. When he’d said he didn’t do handshakes, she completely understood, saying her brother was the same way. “Here to grab another bouquet for your mother?”

“Yea,” he nodded, turning his head slightly to hopefully hide the blush that was rising through his cheeks. 

Before he could say much, she had floated over to where the carnations were. He’d always gone with them because pink ones in particular symbolized the love of a mother, but he wanted to find a way to talk to Y/N more. “Actually,” he said, walking up to her side, “would you be able to help me put together something different for her today?”

“Of course!” she said excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her face. “Sorry. Most people come in here knowing exactly what they want, and they buy it and leave, which is all well and good – it keeps my business going – but I do love to piece together bouquets myself…so yes, I’d love to. How about you tell me a little bit about your mother and your relationship with her, if you’re comfortable with that. It will help me figure out where to go around here.”

As he told her about his mother, her love of literature, her love of the color purple (he was pretty sure his love of the color came from her), and their relationship, he found himself speaking without actually hearing himself. He was too busy getting lost in the way her smile softened at the mention of his mother’s schizophrenia, the crinkle in the corners of her eyes when she smiled, the way they got lost in conversation for nearly a half hour before she focused again to put together his bouquet. “Okay, I think I can put together something special,” she said. “I would stick with a couple of pink carnations because they are perfect for her, but I think I’ll add a few things.” 

“Do you mind telling me why you’re picking each flower?” he asked. Honestly, he just wanted to hear her talk. She spoke about flowers the way he spoke about…everything.

She smiled softly. “Well, I’m going to put a stem of purple waxflowers in the middle. First for the color, but waxflowers also last a lot longer than most flowers once picked, hence the name, so they’ve come to have a lot of meanings, one of which is long-lasting love.” She went on to add some carnations, baby’s breath and a few small green mums. “Because they’re for your mum,” she laughed. “I’m sorry. Excuse me, I’m a dork when it comes to flowers.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smile. “I’m a dork when it comes to everything.” 

After paying for his bouquet, she gave him a wave goodbye and said she hoped he’d be back in soon. As he walked out, he knew he would be.

—-

In the ensuing weeks, Spencer went in whenever he was home, which happened to be fairly often. He wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was beautiful. He wanted to say that he desperately wanted to take her on a date. But whenever he went in, his intentions clear, he’d see her smile, blush uncontrollably, and make up another story about how he was home more often lately, so he’d bring his mother more and more flowers.

He told her about his theory regarding scent, and how they seemed to keep his mother lucid a bit longer than usual. Despite what he’d thought, she didn’t judge. “Actually olfactory senses are more closely linked with memory than any other sense, so that might actually be true.” 

How had that not crossed his mind? Apparently, he was very distracted. He paid and turned away from the door, but he promised himself that the next time he came in, he’d say something.

—-

It was only three days later than Spencer found himself walking into The Bloom Room. “Hello again, Spencer,” she laughed. “Does your mom want more flowers?”

“She always does,” he said, staring at the bouquet in her hand. It was fairly plain, but no less beautiful; it consisted of white, pink and coral lilies. “That one is beautiful. Are you putting it together for someone?” 

Her cheeks blushed, before she admitted what she was doing. “Occasionally, when I don’t have anything to put together, I’ll put together a bouquet I’d love to get. I always put the flowers back after, but sometimes I like to look at them all arranged.”

This was his chance. “Can I buy them?” he asked. 

“I’d love that!”

Spencer walked with her to the counter and took the bouquet shakily in his hands as he paid for them. “I hope she likes them,” she said softly. “Lilies have always been my favorite.” 

“That’s good,” he said, handing her the bouquet. “These are for you. For weeks, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you I like you. Props help.” He hesitated a moment, watching as she brought the bouquet to her nose and breathed in the perfume. “What I’m trying to say is that I’d really like to take you out sometime.”

“I think I’d like that even more than the flowers.” She placed the bouquet back on the counter and came out from behind it, standing up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Is it okay if I dork out about flowers on our date?”

“Sure,” he said, bringing his hand to the side of her face. “Can I dork out about everything else?” 

With a tight-lipped smile, she nodded. They hadn’t been on a date yet, but it seemed right to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Absolutely.”


End file.
